I Can't Take You Anywhere
by Shuvcat
Summary: Fragment of a Faith/Mayor adventure I started a long time ago.... somewhat sequel to I Can Drive


I Can't Take You Anywhere by Shuvcat 2001 The first chapter of a sequel I never finished to I Can Drive. Just thought I'd post it; I came across it tonight, it gave me a laugh. Faith is invited to a party with the Mayor's high-society friends, and finds more than she bargained for...doesn't she always?? Rated R for sex n' violence, baby. :)   
Based on characters owned by Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, the WB, Fox, Sanddollar, the UPN. 

* * *

The limosine was slick and black. It pulled to the curb with silent deliberation, opening to receive the girl who stood on the corner, herself dark and glossy under the streetlamps. The door opened and a hand extended from the depths in a gesture of welcome, a false security in the dark depraved universe that began at the car door. A hand for a princess. She cracked a sneering smile. A princess. Shit. The so-called princess glided into the dark car like a black swan, illuminated by the discreet overhead light. Her milky curves of breasts were well- featured by the evening dress he'd been talked into buying for her. A deep, nearly indigo blue color, low cut with spaghetti straps that kept falling at all the right times. Satin, or velvet, one of those shiny materials that wasn't enough of either for her to pin it down. All she knew was that it was expensive, and that her skin had sure never seen the likes of it before, and it felt very, very sexy. Her hair, usually long and stringy, was tonight permed and styled and falling in fluffed waves, glistening with spray. Her lips were wet with lipstick that cost more than most people pay for car repairs. She wasn't most people. Never had been. And, he told her, it was high time she got treated that way. She was special, a higher breed of human, the next generation of a dying race. Evolution marching on. She knew it to be true herself, that was what she'd been trying to drill into B's head their last night together. _We are better._ Except Buffy wouldn't bite. The cold hard fissure that yawned between them was impossible to ignore, and vastly disappointing. Buffy was always going to believe as she did now: that modesty was a virtue. What a waste of perfectly good Slayer. That was one thing Faith genuinely liked about _him._ One piece of real, solid common ground they shared, in spite of everything; he didn't give a rat's ass about modesty. He knew what he wanted, and he took it. _Want, take, have._ Anyone who got in his way....got introduced to her. The passengers had all watched their stunning newcomer as she climbed in, heels crackling on the loose sheet plastic covering the floor. She crossed her long curvy legs, sparkling in the dim light from the overhead, like a call girl in a sleazy late-night commercial; hair, lips, nails, indigo satin, diamonds. She was sex, she was death, poured in a tall cool bottle of blue glass. The man and the woman across the way thought she was for them. A gift, a business trinket. They didn't know how right they were. Only she herself and her benefactor knew that by the end of this ride there would be two less passengers in the limo. A mini-fridge was opened. A bottle was popped, drinks were passed around. Even to her, in spite of her age. There could be no little girls here tonight, this party was for the grownups. She and he exchanged out-of-the-corner glances; he ordered, and she listened, silently communicating. She, his pet killer, his assassin in a diamond collar. For him she tempered her temper, forged her rage and recklessness into a finely honed point, an edge on a knife. For him she killed, because of him she lived, for him she thought she might even die. He provided her with toys -- targets to practice on, the best slays she'd ever had. For that alone she was grateful; for the rush, adrenaline, the gutteral release that came when she felt her toys shudder and die underneath her. For supplying her that, she damn near loved him. The motor purred beneath her legs, the limosine picked up speed as it drove. The CD deck was on, someone -- the Mayor? the driver? had set the lurid scene to music; the Deftones, she thought. Longing and keening and shot through with screams -- of lust, of death. Bad ass music, young music, selected for her playtime alone. He couldn't possibly be enjoying it, but he was suffering through it. For her. The music, and the limo, increased in speed, thumps and bumps. She stretched, offering her long, soft body for perusal, letting them watch as she folded, refolded her legs like the blades of a scissors. The man and the woman they rode with no longer bothered with formalities, their true faces showed and they licked their chops at the sight of her reclining sinously in the leather seat. "Someday your faces are going to freeze that way," Mayor Wilkins pertly joshed them. The beautiful girl in the evening dress flashed in the dim light like a peacock feather as she whipped out her stake and made quick work out of the man, then the woman vampire, struggling with Mrs. Vamp a little before driving the sharp shaft into her. Like so many arts -- vomiting after a long binge, pleasuring herself in a public bathroom -- Faith had mastered the disgusting act of Slaying without even messing herself up. The dust and ash pooled in the creases of the plastic on the floor, laid there for exactly that purpose. Faith flopped back down breathless in her seat, forgetting for a second about the unforgiving dress she was tied into. Slinky, sexy -- but not worth shit for fighting in. She reached for the wine glass to cool herself down. "Ah-ah-ah," the Mayor tsked, taking the glass back. "No more of that tonight. That was just so our guests wouldn't get suspicious." He cast a disparaging glance at the filth covering the floor of the limo. "Not much of a ruse, but for reasons I've never understood, no one expects a Slayer to be over 21." He chuckled, amused, as he put the glasses away. Faith, deprived of alcohol, pouted, but only mildly. "Thankless job, all right." She gave the Mountain Dew can he handed her a wistful look, then popped it open and slammed back half in a few gulps. It was wet and cold, anyway. "Tell me you didn't get me all pretty just for John and Marsha there." "Oh, no!" The Mayor himself was dressed snappier than usual, in a black blazer, neater-than-usual tie, even a hanky sticking out of his breast pocket. They looked like they were headed to the prom. "No, tonight's the Founder's Ball at the Von Aiken Pavilion. I told you about it before, but I don't expect you to remember. It's a big to-do they have every year or so, ostensibly to raise money for certain charities. Heh--" he chuckled again, "--which, more often than not, are each other's bank accounts. But the reason we're going....." He stopped short, cast a glance at his young protege. "Actually, Faith... I have to be honest and say I'm using you." Faith raised an eyebrow. "Wow. Honesty. Gettin' into the touchy-feely end of the pool, boss. You gonna ask me to move in next?" She loved screwing with his head like that. He always got this semi-startled look on his face when she started flirting, like he didn't know how to handle it. He covered it quick, but it always gave Faith a laugh. Another art she was getting good at. "Ahem, no," he spoke. "No, Faith, as it happens, a good deal of the people at this soiree tonight aren't going to be people at all." Vamps. Faith smiled at the thought of all that slayage. "And you need me to clean house." "No." He shook his head. "That's exactly what I _don't_ want you to do. It's imperative that no one finds out who you are, at least not right away. Marissa Von Aiken will be able to see you're the Slayer a mile off, however we won't be seeing her for most of the night. Our target is this young buck." He handed her a folder. "Target?" Faith sipped her Mountain Dew, contemplating the yellow manila. "I'm getting a wicked La Femme Nikita vibe here." She flipped it open to find a black-and-white photo of a very thin, very gaunt, very gay looking young man. "That's Nils," the Mayor told her. "That's her uh, associate.... don't let that face fool you, he's been eating his Wheaties. He's also stolen something from me. Or so I think...I don't have proof yet. That's where you come in." He looked at Faith. Oh...she got it. "Recon," she whispered. "Bingo." He beamed. "Don't hurt him, now....at least, not until you've found this." He showed her yet another picture, this one of something like a cross, silver, with forked edges. "It's not the most powerful trinket I own, but it has...let's say sentimental value. Not that it isn't important....I wouldn't call you if it wasn't. Not on a weeknight." "Well, yeah." Faith flipped the folder shut, stretching. "Gotta get my homework done and all." Not that she didn't appreciate having something to do.... anything was better than sitting at home alone, even if she did have twenty different Playstation games to watch now, instead of black-and-white KSUN grove reports. But hanging around a dull dinner with a bunch of stiff corpses didn't sound like it promised a fun time. She would much rather have preferred telling the driver to take off, find a real club, a real party, go drag racing with yuppies down the freeway, anything would have been better. Faith stung, for the hundredth time in the few days since it had happened, about having to detonate her own car, the beautiful brand new Jaguar that the Mayor had given her, a neccessary measure to kill some very nasty vampires that had been dogging them. Neccessary? Faith found herself reliving that fight yet again, watching it in her mind's eye like watching a football play on rewind to see what she'd done wrong, anything she could have done differently to take out the bastards and still keep her car. Damn, she missed that car. Faith sighed, sticking that memory back in its cage for the moment. She glanced over at the Mayor... and she reached over and lazily slipped her hand underneath his jacket lapel, into his warm inner breast pocket, searching for the Dum-Dum suckers she knew were tucked there next to his cell phone. He always had some, in case he met the rugrats of prospective voters while out doing mayorly stuff. Faith gave him a smartassed smirk as she withdrew a cherry-flavored pop between her fingers. Ripping off the wrapper, she popped it into her mouth, swirling her tongue around the hard candy. The Mayor watched this provocative display with a calm, controlled expression. "You know, sometimes I poison those," he spoke offhandedly. Faith stopped in mid-suck. Slowly she pulled the now-suspect lollipop from her red lips and stared at it. It didn't look weird....didn't taste funny either, but.... he poisoned lollipops?? And she knew, for a fact, that with his wicked voodoo connections he could have laced the candy with something not even Giles had on the books. "You serious?" she couldn't help asking. The Mayor rested his chin in his hand, eyes squinting as he pondered aloud. "Gosh, let me see.... did I or did I not take the coat with the poisoned pops today?" He raised his fingers, ticking things off one by one. "Six-twenty-five, woke up; six-forty, had my shoes on, six fifty five....hmm...." Faith waited impatiently as he ran down the highlight reel of his morning. The guy was so retentive he actually had a schedule for getting dressed, meanwhile Faith may or may not be on death's door. To tell the truth, his expression wasn't that urgent.... he almost looked to be faking. Faith had seen that look a few other times -- just now, in fact, when he'd made that crack about the vamps' faces freezing, and once before right when he'd had her kill some other unlucky schmuck. The apprehension she'd fought down the night she'd gone to his office looking for a job, that she'd been holding down ever since, flared back in brief, full force. He _was_ evil, after all. There was a part of him that strongly reminded Faith of the Joker from Batman, and she found herself wondering if he'd ever bumped off a few lackeys in the past just for laughs.... whether he had, in fact, just found the perfect way to get rid of her..... The Mayor clucked his tongue, giving up. "Well, there's only one surefire way to find out, isn't there?" he finally decided. Without further ado he pulled one of the lollys from his pocket, unwrapped it, and popped it in his mouth, concentrating on the taste. Faith waited, mentally keeping a bead on her own pulse. Minutes passed. The Mayor pulled the lollipop out, smiling. "Not a problem! Safe as the grave, Faith. Sorry to startle you there. I honestly wouldn't remember my head if it weren't attached." He gave her a beaming smile, sucking on the sucker. Faith tried to smile back. "Sure....whatever."   
To Be Continued.....or not.   



End file.
